Beyond “Fitting In”: What Neuro-Affirming Inclusion Really Looks Like

In mainstream education, inclusion is often spoken about as if it simply means placing neurodivergent children in the same classroom as their neurotypical peers. But real inclusion is much more than physical presence. It is about belonging, participation, autonomy, and being recognised as a valued member of the classroom community.

A study by Piedade, Neto, Pires, Prada, and Nicolau, titled “That’s our game!”: Reflections on co-designing a robotic game with neurodiverse children, offers a powerful example of what neuro-affirming practice can look like in mainstream classrooms. The researchers worked with neurodiverse elementary classrooms, meaning classrooms that included both neurodivergent and neurotypical children. Their aim was not to “fix” neurodivergent children or train them to behave more neurotypically. Instead, they wanted to design an inclusive play experience that worked for a range of children with different ways of thinking, communicating, moving, and interacting.

The study began with a clear problem: many neurodivergent children are educated in mainstream schools alongside neurotypical peers, but they still often experience social exclusion. Being in the room is not the same as being included. The researchers also noted that inclusive play activities can support connection, but games designed specifically for neurodiverse groups are still rare. Too often, activities for neurodivergent children are designed from the top down, with adults deciding what children need, rather than involving children directly in the design process.

To address this, the researchers led a six-month co-design process to create an inclusive robotic game for neurodiverse classrooms. They first interviewed neurodivergent adults and educators to better understand the barriers and facilitators to inclusion in mainstream classrooms. Then they ran five co-design sessions with four neurodiverse classrooms, involving 81 children, including 19 neurodivergent children.

This matters because co-design shifts the power dynamic. Rather than treating neurodivergent children as passive recipients of support, the study treated them as contributors, designers, testers, and experts in their own experience. That is a deeply neuro-affirming approach.

One of the most important features of the study is that the researchers looked at the design process through Self-Determination Theory. This theory focuses on three psychological needs: competence, autonomy, and relatedness. In simpler terms, children need to feel capable, have meaningful choice, and feel connected to others. These are important for all children, but they are especially relevant when thinking about neuro-affirming inclusion, because many neurodivergent children spend much of their school life being corrected, managed, excluded, or misunderstood.

The study found that the most successful activities were those that were playful, creative, and flexible. Activities where children could make things, draw, build, test ideas, or create visible outcomes helped support neurodivergent children’s sense of competence. This is important because traditional classroom participation often rewards children who can speak confidently in groups, sit still, process instructions quickly, or communicate in expected ways. Creative and hands-on activities open up more routes into participation.

The final game also included features that supported inclusion. For example, the game used a shared challenge, or “common enemy,” which encouraged children to work together rather than compete against each other. It also allowed some flexibility and rule-bending, which gave children more room to engage in ways that suited them. These details may sound small, but they reflect a major shift in thinking. Instead of asking, “How can we make neurodivergent children follow the existing rules?” the study asks, “How can we design the activity so more children can genuinely take part?”

This is the heart of neuro-affirming practice.

A neuro-affirming classroom does not expect every child to participate in the same way. It recognises that children may communicate differently, regulate differently, collaborate differently, and show interest or understanding differently. The goal is not sameness. The goal is access, dignity, and belonging.

The study is also valuable because it does not pretend that inclusion is simple. Some parts of the process worked better than others. Group decision-making activities were sometimes frustrating or less engaging for neurodivergent children. The researchers also noted that the sit-down nature of the board game needed more work to better support autonomy, competence, and connection. This honesty is useful because neuro-affirming practice is not a finished checklist. It is an ongoing process of noticing barriers, listening to neurodivergent people, and adapting environments.

For mainstream schools, the lesson is clear: inclusion cannot depend on neurodivergent children doing all the adapting. If a child is excluded by the design of an activity, the problem is not simply within the child. The activity, environment, communication style, sensory demands, social expectations, and rules all need to be examined.

This study supports a move away from deficit-based approaches and towards inclusive design. It reminds us that neurodivergent children should not only be accommodated after the fact; they should be involved from the beginning. Their perspectives should shape the classroom, the activities, the tools, and the culture.

Neuro-affirming inclusion means asking better questions.

Not: “How do we get this child to fit in?”

But: “What needs to change so this child can belong?”

Not: “How do we make every child participate in the same way?”

But: “How can we create different routes into participation?”

Not: “How do we reduce difference?”

But: “How do we design for cognitive diversity?”

The study by Piedade and colleagues is not a large-scale trial measuring academic outcomes. It is a co-design and reflection study, so we should be careful not to overstate its findings. But it offers strong support for an important principle: when neurodivergent children are included as active contributors, and when classroom activities are designed around flexibility, creativity, autonomy, and connection, mainstream inclusion becomes more meaningful.

Real inclusion is not about making neurodivergent children appear more neurotypical. It is about creating spaces where different neurotypes can learn, play, contribute, and belong together.

And perhaps the most powerful message of the study is found in its title: “That’s our game!

Piedade, P., Neto, I., Pires, A., Prada, R., & Nicolau, H. (2024). “That’s our game!”: Reflections on co-designing a robotic game with neurodiverse children. arXiv. https://arxiv.org/abs/2404.11252