Beyond the Label – Understanding the Spiky Spectrum of Neurodivergence Across Education, Health, and Life

There are children across the UK sitting in classrooms today who already believe they are failing—not because they lack talent or intelligence, but because the system isn’t built to accommodate how they think, feel, move, or learn.

They are neurodivergent. And they are being left behind.

These children are autistic, have ADHD, dyslexia, dyspraxia, Tourette’s, sensory processing differences, language processing delays, or complex combinations of all of the above. And yet, many of them are still waiting for someone to notice. To support. To act.

The reality is this: neurodivergent profiles are spiky, complex, and unique, and no single diagnosis tells the whole story. But our systems—from health to education to employment—still demand neat categories before offering support.

And while we wait for assessments and diagnoses, children fall further behind—not because of their difference, but because of our failure to accommodate it.

The Spiky Profile: The Truth Behind the Labels

In education, we too often approach neurodivergence as if it exists in separate silos. A child might be identified as autistic, or dyslexic, or ADHD—but rarely recognised as a blend of overlapping traits and needs. Yet research is clear:

  • 50–70% of autistic individuals also meet the criteria for ADHD.

  • Over 60% of those with dyslexia show signs of other neurodevelopmental conditions.

  • Co-occurrence is the rule, not the exception.

And these profiles are spiky. That is, individuals may have exceptional strengths in some areas—like pattern recognition, creativity, or memory—and deep difficulties in others, like time management, handwriting, or social interaction.

But rather than adapting our systems, we still cling to one-size-fits-all expectations.

When Adjustments Are Ignored, Children Are Set Up to Fail

One of the clearest examples of systemic failure is in the neglect of reasonable adjustments, particularly in access to exams and assessments.

Under the Equality Act 2010, all schools and colleges have a legal duty to make reasonable adjustments for disabled pupils—this includes neurodivergent learners—even without an Education, Health and Care Plan (EHCP).

And yet, time and again:

  • Exam access arrangements (extra time, rest breaks, a reader, a scribe, use of a laptop) are not applied for because the child does not have a formal diagnosis.

  • Teachers wrongly believe adjustments are “unfair advantages,” when they are, in fact, essential to levelling the playing field.

  • Children are assessed for access arrangements far too late—often in Year 11—by which point they have already internalised years of underachievement.

  • In primary school, SATs and phonics screening tests are delivered with rigid expectations, regardless of sensory or processing needs.

  • Pupils with clear working memory or auditory processing difficulties are told to “just try harder,” instead of being supported with visual cues, repetition, or extra time.

This is not inclusion. This is silent discrimination.

A Missed Adjustment is a Missed Opportunity

When we fail to provide reasonable adjustments, we don’t get a true picture of a child’s ability. We measure their capacity to survive in a system that wasn’t built for them.

Let’s talk about Arjun, a Year 3 pupil who was referred for ADHD after struggling to stay focused in class. He was constantly tapping, moving, fidgeting. But he was also a gifted storyteller. He created elaborate narratives in the playground and could improvise whole plays with his classmates. Yet every written task ended in tears. What wasn’t initially recognised was that Arjun also had undiagnosed dysgraphia. Writing physically hurt. The effort of forming letters drained his focus. His “lack of attention” wasn’t a behavioural problem—it was the symptom of a deeper, misunderstood need.

Then there’s Milly, aged 14, in a mainstream secondary school. She was quiet, polite, and academically strong—on paper, a model student. But every Sunday night she became physically ill with anxiety. She masked her autism so completely during the week that by Friday, she would collapse with exhaustion. Teachers didn’t notice—until she stopped attending altogether. The damage from years of being unseen had already been done.

Let’s take Reece, a 15-year-old with undiagnosed ADHD and slow processing speed. He’s brilliant in discussions and science experiments, but can’t complete a standard exam paper in time. The school doesn’t apply for access arrangements because “he seems capable.” So in his GCSEs, he runs out of time, underperforms, and leaves school with grades that don’t reflect his knowledge.

Or Salma, aged 10, with dyslexia and sensory processing needs. She’s easily overwhelmed in large exam halls, but her school won’t allow her to sit in a quiet room because she doesn’t have a formal diagnosis. She freezes during SATs, scores poorly, and is placed in low sets for Year 7. The spiral begins.

Every unmade adjustment is a message: This space wasn’t built for you.

Equity is Not a Favour – It’s a Right

Reasonable adjustments aren’t about “special treatment.” They’re about equity. They’re about creating environments that don’t punish children for the way their brains are wired.

The reality is that the standard classroom, the standard assessment, the standard expectations—are designed around neurotypical norms.

To deny support unless a child can prove they are disabled enough, or has the “correct” label, is not only legally questionable—it’s ethically indefensible.

Bright Future: Building a Culture of Compassionate Adjustment

At Bright Future, we work with schools to understand that adjustments should not be the last resort. They are the foundation of inclusive practice.

Our training helps educators:

  • Understand how to apply exam access arrangements early and proactively—especially for children on waiting lists for diagnosis.

  • Recognise functional difficulties (like processing speed, attention, sensory needs) even when a label hasn’t been given.

  • Create flexible, neuroinclusive classrooms where accommodations are embedded into daily life—not just bolted on during exam season.

  • Build staff confidence in adapting without fear of “doing it wrong.”

The truth is, most adjustments cost nothing—but change everything.

The Power of One

With nearly 1 million professionals working in UK state education, the potential for change is enormous.

If each one of us made a reasonable adjustment that helped just one child—to focus, to feel safe, to show what they know—we’d transform one million lives.

We are not powerless. Every member of staff—whether they’re a headteacher, midday supervisor, or college tutor—has the power to create moments of dignity, support, and hope.

The current system makes it hard. Staff are overworked. CAMHS is stretched. Diagnoses are delayed. But support doesn’t have to wait. Understanding doesn’t have to wait.

Bright Future’s model is about acting now, with the tools and knowledge we already have.

Imagine that child sitting in Year 6, finally able to use a laptop because handwriting causes pain.

Imagine the Year 10 student who receives 25% extra time and, for the first time, finishes an exam and believes they are capable.

Imagine the 8-year-old who gets a movement break every 20 minutes, and suddenly no longer dreads school.

If each one improved the outcome of just one child, that’s one million lives changed. One million stories rewritten. One million futures with brighter possibilities.

Imagine what happens next.

It Starts Here. It Starts With Us.

We cannot always control diagnosis timelines. We cannot eliminate funding gaps overnight. But we can control how we respond to the children in front of us.

We can stop waiting for permission to support them.

We can start making classrooms more human, more flexible, more fair.

“The smallest adjustment can be the difference between barely surviving and finally thriving. No child should have to earn the right to be included.”

— Bright Future editorial quote

At Bright Future, we don’t offer perfection—we offer practical, realistic, compassionate training that meets schools where they are, and helps them move toward what children need.

This is not extra work. This is the work.

Final Word

Our job is not to force children to conform to rigid systems. It is to reshape those systems until every child—regardless of label—feels they belong.

Let’s stop asking neurodivergent children to fight for the tools they need to succeed. Let’s give them those tools freely, proudly, and without delay.

Let’s be the reason a child believes in themselves again. Let’s be the start of their Bright Future.

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