The experience of shame in education

I was contacted recently by a parent activist in the US who is interested in the shame experience in education settings for children who are neurodivergent. This is a topic that is close to my heart as a shame educator and parent of a neurodivergent child. The long version of my response to her is here:

The thing is about shame, is that it manifests in response to social norms and expectations. In the society I live in (the UK) I can’t think of many environments that are as regimented and normative as the state education system and certainly none that are as universally accessed. 

“Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing that we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging” (Brene Brown, 2013) 1.

For neurodivergent children and adults, the deeply personal sense of being flawed is created and sustained through repeatedly being held up to a standard does not fit them. As such, they are more likely to experience acute or chronic shame. Indeed, any marginalized individual is more likely to experience shame – for example being a person of colour in a context of white supremacy and colonialism, or living in poverty in a capitalist culture that says that if you work hard then you will have enough money. Shame and oppression both accumulate intersectionally.

Although there is an argument that “neurotypicality is an oppressive cultural standard” which hurts everyone regardless of their neurotype, the hurt is felt more by those who are neurologically divergent from this standard” (Devon Price, 2022 2).

Devon Price writes about how autism is more likely to be missed entirely or mislabelled for females, people of colour, trans or gender nonconforming individuals due to early Autism research focusing on a narrow demographic of wealthy, white male children. Lack of awareness of autism’s varied presentation causes further difficulties for these individuals when trying to find out more about themselves.

The erosion of self worth

Neurodivergent children are much much more likely to hear negative comments such as “sit still”, “can’t you just behave?”, “don’t interrupt”, “try harder”, “stop rushing”, “just focus”. It has been claimed that by the age of 12, children with ADHD will have received 20,000 more negative comments than their neurotypical peers. As I can’t find the research for this statistic I use it as an illustration, which is backed up by my own personal experiences in my household. To get ready and leave the house for school in the morning, my neurodivergent child often will be cajoled, reminded and at times chided in ways that his sibling is not. I am clearly no perfect parent. (A connected topic is the amount of shame parents of neurodivergent children can feel). Although learning more about our child’s differences has helped my partner and I to support him better, he still struggles with the sense that he is “less than” because he needs more support.

It's not just comments that reinforce this sense of inadequacy for neurodivergent individuals, however. “Disruptive” behaviour in school leads to punishments such as a detention, and not completing the work in the expected time can lead to having to stay in over break time. In some secondary schools local to me, students will publicly receive a negative behaviour point for not having the correct stationery, which is more likely when someone has difficulties with executive function tasks such as self-organization. Even so-called restorative methods can be shame inducing as neurodivergent children are often highly sensitive. My son is a “well behaved” child in school – he isn’t disruptive and tries hard. He’s rarely told off by teachers, but is very worried that when this happens, he’ll been given some “reflection time”.

The expectation of conformity

This leads me onto the next issue - masking. A common scenario that I encounter as a parent and as a professional is that a child with actual or suspected neurological differences will be trying so hard to meet the expectations of them in school that they are essentially working twice as hard as others. There is a limit for us all, and for these children, they reach their limit more quickly due to the overtime they are putting in. This is where behaviour becomes explosive, perhaps after school or perhaps within the school day. For some children, further negative interactions from adults may ensue.

Children and young people can be pushed to conform in school, in ways that are contrary to their needs. For example, when a student is repeatedly denied access to movement breaks, is required to wear a uniform that triggers sensory difficulties, is pushed to suppress stimming behaviour and make eye contact. Over time, these repeated experiences reinforce a sense of personal inadequacy, internalized as shame. The reality is that these difficulties arise due to the often unaccommodating environment of schools, and are not personal failings or having unreasonable needs.

When someone is experiencing shame, their responses are often misunderstood, which can lead to the perpetuation of the shame experience. As Dan Hughes explains, typical responses for a child in shame are to blame others, to minimise, lie or get really mad. However, for more chronic experiences of shame someone is more likely to use shame avoidance tactics such as perfectionism, camouflaging or poor or no school attendance.

My experience personally and professionally, is that when individual children’s differences are highlighted to teachers that there is often a willingness to make accommodations such as sensory breaks, using ear defenders, fidget toys, and assessing understanding orally rather than always through written work. An issue is that these adjustments are often being made only after parents have advocated for them. Unless a child is being disruptive their needs are often overlooked, and even when a child is being disruptive, their needs are often misunderstood.

My sense is that teachers have not received enough training about dyslexia, ADHD, ASC and other neurodivergence, and that with a large class size it can be hard to pick up on more subtle indicators of differences.

Shame sensitivity

When delivering Shame Sensitive Practice training, I help delegates to use a mentalizing approach with others. This involves imagining what thoughts, feelings or needs might be behind someone’s behaviours. It also involves paying attention to your own state of mind and how this might be influencing your considerations of what is going on for the other in that moment.

The difficulty is that if you aren’t aware enough of common features of autism or ADHD for example, it can be difficult to imagine as it may be far removed from your own experience. For example, if you’ve never found it hard to fade out background noises, then you won’t understand how distracting or even infuriating a ticking clock or other people talking around you can be. If you don’t find it hard to sit still for 20 minutes then you might feel that someone fidgeting or getting up from their seat is doing this to be intentionally disruptive. This is where knowledge helps mentalizing, and where students can be more appropriately supported by their teachers.

Knowledge about neurodivergence can also help teachers to recognise the strengths as well as challenges for neurodivergent children. For example, these children can bring creative problem solving, unique perspectives, curiosity and passionate engagement with topics that are of interest to them. The beauty of having more neurodiversity affirmative schools, is that all children can benefit regardless of how their brains work.

And so, the short version of my response is this:

Knowledge and understanding of neurodivergence combined with a willingness to put this into action are the resources needed for teachers and education settings to provide shame sensitive education for all children.

References:

1. Brown, B. (2013, January 13). Shame vs. guilt. Brené Brown. https://brenebrown.com/articles/2013/01/15/shame-v-guilt/#:~:text=I%20define%20shame%20as%20the,makes%20us%20unworthy%20of%20connection.

2. Price, D. (2023) Unmasking Autism: The Power of Embracing Our Hidden Neurodiversity