by Evie

At the high school I attended, the pastoral support team (the people who are there to support pupils’ physical, emotional and mental wellbeing) were behind a locked door. If you wanted support, or simply to talk to someone, you had to go through a very public process of arranging a meeting.

I’m unsure how this was ever seen as acceptable, but in my conversations with other young people from across the country, this is
not uncommon.

The lack of accessible support is especially worrying when thinking about the needs of disabled or neurodivergent children and young people. Waiting lists for diagnoses that go on to provide life-improving and lifesaving support stretch longer and longer, often extending beyond childhood and full-time education. And often, this is far too late.

As it is, the education and healthcare systems are catastrophically failing young people. As a young girl with a hidden disability, I had to fight to even be believed, let alone treated. Receiving support should not be a battle. Yet here I am, after countless dismissals of my pain, my experiences and my struggles. This is not how it was meant to be, and
this is not how we can allow it to continue.

Neurodivergent and disabled people experience far greater rates of depression and anxiety than their neurotypical [those with brains like most people’s]  and non-disabled peers. And when you look at the lack of understanding and willingness to change from both the education system and the healthcare system, this is no surprise. My ambition is to reduce this difference, and allow these children to thrive.