The Delusion of Inclusion

The topic of inclusion is hot, particularly the question of whether it works, and why special schools are often seen as a last resort. Why are so many parents keen on the mainstream system, what’s the reality of inclusion and does it work?

In order to tackle this topic, an interesting starting point is the concept of labels in general. Specifically, whether these are of benefit to the children they apply to, or whether they are, in fact, a tool for the school system in general, which in their nature hold children back and act as a hindrance to their development?

The result, often – in a special school environment, is that children who share, or have a similar, need are grouped together. Same need – same educational format: narrow, limiting and one-dimensional. For many, this is not the right approach – it is, in its nature, an entirely exclusive premise and it pigeon holes children very early on, withdrawing them from their rightful community. The argument for pursuing a mainstream environment, is therefore based on a quest for inclusivity (intentional and crucial for the marginalised); children, regardless of need or neurodiversity should be taught with a mixed peer group, where they can experience and benefit from the communication and cooperation skills required to work together in a diverse context. Indeed, it’s true to say that that set-up better reflects the communities and wider society that children are going into once they leave school. Surely mirroring that is more beneficial, enlightening and authentic? Furthermore, mainstream education means one curriculum, inclusive content, expectations, and teaching and learning parameters. Whether you're dyslexic, non-verbal, downs, or have any neurodiversity – you cover the Vikings (amongst other things) together, everyone sharing the same educational rights. It feels like a no-brainer, right?

Since the pandemic there’s been a noticeable shift in how schools tackle resilience in children, and the provision of support in relation to change and loss. There’s much more talk of compassion and empathy and a recognition that these skills have been squeezed in an ever-more saturated school day. Resources are being called on increasingly to address this, and while there’s a way to go, there’s an acknowledgement that children (indeed everyone) needs to learn how to be comfortable with uncertainty. It’s a life-skill of growing import and relevance, interesting to consider in light of our somewhat rigid, formulaic, success-driven education structure.

However, the reality is that most mainstream schools are under enormous pressure, from a financial, curriculum and expertise perspective. The result is an inability to cope with the added challenge of special educational needs, particularly as class sizes increase and special educational needs becomes broader and bigger and more diverse. Perhaps the lack of funding is impacting will – but the endpoint is the same: it would be easier for schools not to have children with special needs on the register. Therefore, those who are ‘included’ are often given a reduced, pedagogical diet – withdrawn from classes to spend more time with less experienced members of staff. The inclusion delusion. More and more children are being let down by the system – fully removing them into the special school environment becomes the only feasible (if reluctant) option.

But it’s not just the children with special educational needs who are being let down, it’s everyone, because strong inclusive practice is just good practice. It benefits everyone. Effective inclusion isn’t just about children with needs, it isn’t just about a small segment of school communities, it’s about all the children who participate in those communities – perhaps that’s the real delusion. Not recognising that feels like more than a missed opportunity, it feels like negligence, which we should put high on the education agenda, before hindsight is a wonderful thing.