Weekend Argus Opinion

Understanding the impact of small moments on autism inclusion in schools

Opinion|Published

Chantel du Toit is a therapist at Karin Brand Child & Family Psychologists.

Image: Supplied.

Chantel du Toit

Each year, World Autism Awareness Day highlights the need for greater understanding, acceptance and inclusion of people with autism. These are important aims. But if inclusion is to move beyond principle, we must ask a more difficult question: what does inclusion feel like for adolescents with autism spectrum disorder (ASD) in a mainstream high school?

Too often, the answer lies not in the milestones we tend to notice, but in the small, repeated moments we overlook — the moments that quietly determine whether a learner copes, withdraws, or begins to disengage. My recent master’s study on Parents’ Perspectives on the Transitions Their Adolescents with Autism Spectrum Disorder Experience in High School, explored this question through thelived experiences of families navigating mainstream schooling. What emerged was that the most persistent challenges are not limited to the transition into high school itself.

Rather, they are found in the daily “micro transitions” that shape the school day: moving between classes, adjusting to different teachers and expectations, navigating crowded corridors, interpreting social interactions, and coping with constant change. For many adolescents with ASD, the school day is not a single experience. It is a continuous process of adjustment. Where these adjustments are frequent, fast-paced and unsupported,school becomes exhausting — not only academically, but emotionally and physically.

Overtime, this cumulative strain can reduce engagement and undermine a learner’s sense of competence. Parents described environments that can often overwhelm the senses. The ringing bell, movement between lessons, fluctuating noise levels and the pace of the day can leave learners depleted before meaningful learning even begins. At the same time, the social demands of high school present ongoing challenges.

Unstructured spaces, such as breaktimes, can heighten uncertainty and isolation. Many adolescents with ASD are physically present in school, but do not feel they belong. Academic performance cannot be separated from this context. Difficulties are seldom areflection of ability alone. They are closely linked to how learning is structured and communicated. Sudden changes, unclear instructions, inconsistent expectations across subjects and limited structured support create ongoing uncertainty. A learner may becapable but still struggle to perform in an environment that assumes flexibility without providing the structure required to support it. In such conditions, effort is often spent oncoping rather than learning. This matters because inclusion is often misunderstood. It is frequently equated with placement — the presence of a learner in a mainstream classroom. Yet presence alone doesnot constitute inclusion. Inclusion requires meaningful participation, consistent access to learning, and a sense of belonging.

Without this, inclusion risks becoming symbolic ratherthan substantive. Despite strong policy commitments to inclusive education, there remains a gap between intention and everyday practice. Parents’ accounts suggest that many schools are not yetequipped to support adolescents with ASD in consistent, practical ways. This is not necessarily due to a lack of care, but to limited training, weak support systems anduncertainty about how to put inclusive principles into daily classroom practice. Parents carry a significant and often unrecognised responsibility. They prepare their children for changes in routine, create predictability at home, anticipate stressors, and support emotional regulation after difficult school days. Many also engage actively with schools, advocating for understanding and helping educators interpret their child’s needs.

What is striking is that parents are not asking for unrealistic solutions, but for clarity, predictability and collaboration. They want instructions to be clear, for changes to be communicated in advance, for routines to be stabilised where possible, and for teachers to understand how ASD may shape behaviour, learning and emotional responses. If inclusion is to move beyond intention, these are not additional supports — they are essential. This requires a shift from awareness to implementation. Teachers need more than goodwill. They need a practical understanding of how sensory issue, focus and planning challengesand emotional difficulties show up in the classroom.

Small adjustments — structured instructions, visual supports, manageable task breakdowns and predictable routines — can significantly improve a learner’s ability to cope and engage. Schools, in turn, need systems that support consistency. This includes individualised support where necessary, access to quiet spaces, identified staff members whom learners can approach when overwhelmed, and strong communication between home and school. Support must extend beyond academics to include emotional well-being and social participation. There is also a need to look beyond the school years themselves. Parents expressed concern about what follows high school — access to further education, employment and independent functioning.

Without deliberate planning and support, the transition out of school risks becoming another hurdle. World Autism Awareness Day should deepen understanding of what adolescents with ASD navigate daily within school environments that are often not designed with them in mind. If inclusion is to be meaningful, it must be part of the daily rhythms of the school day. It must be evident in how transitions are managed, how expectations are communicated, how environments are structured, and how support is provided in difficult moments.

Inclusion is not secured in policy alone. It is realised in practice — in the corridor after the bell rings, in the clarity of a teacher’s instructions, in the availability of a quiet space, and in whether a learner feels able to cope, to participate, and ultimately, to belong. That is where inclusion becomes real. And that is where change must begin.

*Du Toit is a therapist at Karin Brand Child & Family Psychologists in Hermanus. This article is based, in part, on her recent master’s degree in educational psychology at Stellenbosch University.

Weekend Argus