For the past four years, I’ve worked in specialist education for neurodivergent children. Many of them have experienced school-related trauma. Our work is completely different from mainstream provision. We have the freedom to shape each day around the child’s needs. Learning might take place at home, in the community, online, or wherever feels safe and engaging. The day can be long or short, active or restful. The key is flexibility. And, perhaps most importantly, nothing starts until the child is ready.
Some begin after breakfast. Some get dressed; others stay in pyjamas. Some take time before they’re ready to engage with another person. And that’s okay. In this small but important way, these children are given a sense of control. In trauma-informed education, this is often the first step in helping children feel safe again. Offering predictability, but without pressure.
Of course, this flexibility is born out of difficult circumstances. Many of these children, and their families, would do anything to undo the distress that led them here. Some never opted into the traditional system in the first place. Others were pushed out by it.
Before this role, I taught in various schools across the UK and abroad. No matter where I was, one pattern was consistent: some children weren’t ready to be at school in the morning.
You could spot them at the door: head down, shoulders slumped. Some hadn’t eaten. Others had fought with siblings, parents, or themselves. Some were simply exhausted or overwhelmed. They needed more time, a slower start. In those moments, what they needed wasn’t phonics or fractions. They needed co-regulation. A calm adult to help them shift from a dysregulated state to one of safety and connection.
But the system rarely makes room for this. Adults face consequences for being late to work, and children face consequences for being late to school. This rigidity removes control, adds pressure, and increases stress - for both children and their families.
We know what stress does. It dysregulates the nervous system, erodes focus, and often triggers the morning cycle we know too well: commands, refusals, frustration, tears, shouting. Then we start over again the next day.
Some fear that flexible approaches mean lowering standards. But in fact, giving children some control over how and when they begin their day can have the opposite effect. It builds internal motivation and self-regulation. Key markers of success in adulthood.
This again ties into Self-Determination Theory, which suggests that humans are most motivated when three basic needs are met: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. Every day, most of us have our autonomy undermined before we get to work or school.
One of the most powerful tools I’ve used, whether in Thailand or the UK, is movement.
After grabbing toast and fruit for hungry bellies from the school canteen, I’d lead my class straight to the playground. Sometimes we just stayed there after morning line up. We danced, stretched, jumped, and ran. In Thailand, other classes started to join us. Eventually, the whole school joined in each morning. We played the children’s favourite songs over the loudspeakers. We danced as a community. It became a ripple of readiness.
In the UK, I carried on the routine. Sometimes other teachers joined in; sometimes it was just me and my class. Indoors or out, high-energy or slow-paced. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the movement. Some children weren’t ready to join a group. So we found quieter spaces where they could race me or just talk while walking. Eventually, they too were a little more ready for the day.
There’s a lot of discussion in education about neuroscience. The focus is often on how to help children retain information longer or how to present content so they learn more efficiently. But to me, there are more relevant and influential neuroscience concepts we should consider. When a child is stuck in a hyperaroused (anxious) or hypoaroused (shut-down) state, movement, especially rhythmic, repetitive movement can help re-regulate the nervous system. We do this instinctively: we pace rooms, we fidget, we stim, we flap when the world becomes overwhelming. This understanding aligns with Polyvagal Theory, developed by Stephen Porges, which emphasises the role of safety and body-based regulation in enabling social engagement and learning.
The first thing I do every morning at home with my little boy is put on some music and move. It's instinctual. It's how we start the day, with happiness and connection. We may not be able to change every system, but we can create small ripples. And for that, movement is key.
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