What speeding taught me about inclusion

Last week I went on a driver awareness course... and left thinking about how far we still have to go on real inclusion.

I had to go on a driver awareness course - well I chose to and not have the points! (Yes, I was caught speeding - whoops.)

The course was useful and has definitely made me reflect on my driving.

But additionally, it showed just how far we still have to go when it comes to inclusion - especially for neurodivergent people. How the course was run was really worrying to me as a neurodiversity advocate.

Today I’m talking about:

  • Info: What made the course so exclusionary

  • Tips: How to design training that works for more people

  • Recommendations: A collation of books and an interview about DLD (developmental language disorder)

But before I start - as we approach the Summer we are making our next phase plans at Differing Minds. We would love to hear from you about how we can help you in your organisation, in your setting or in your family. Please let us know here, and we hope to serve more of what you want as we look towards the end of the year and 2026!

A course in ‘how not to do inclusion’

It started well - pre-course communication was sent out. Big tick.

But there was so much of it that it felt impossible to read through and almost impossible to extract the important information. I imagine for someone dyslexic, with a language disorder or other differences, it may have been even harder.

And the accessibility info was tucked away in the middle of the joining instructions. No clear headline. No early heads-up. Just a line buried deep in the details saying “let us know if you have any accessibility needs.”

Here’s the problem: that assumes people already know they have accessibility needs. That they’ve had a diagnosis. That they’ve got the confidence to ask. That they even made it far enough through the joining info to see it.

That small detail - or rather, the lack of it - really isn’t sufficient or inclusive. It just screams ‘tick-box’.

Once the session started, things got worse.

Early on, one participant was told off for “fiddling with something” on their desk. Then later, the trainer told them off again, saying it was distracting. There was no curiosity about why they might be doing that. No attempt to understand. Just a blanket rule based on what the trainer found annoying or assumptions around what it meant to be concentrating.

Then someone yawned and the trainer called them out - “are you tired and switching off?” They politely replied that it was difficult to be on a screen for 3 hours.

As if that wasn’t bad enough - we were all made to stay off mute the whole time, even when we weren’t speaking! It felt so unnecessary and deeply uncomfortable.

And perhaps most worryingly, we were told we’d only “pass” if the trainer felt we were “engaged”. But what does engaged look like? Making eye contact? Nodding? Sitting still? Obviously not fiddling with anything - that had been made abundantly clear… It really didn’t appear to be safe for, and understanding of neurodivergent people.

It was clear the course hadn’t been designed with difference in mind. And when that’s the case, people don’t just feel uncomfortable - they feel excluded.

Tips for more inclusive training

If you run any kind of training or group session - whether it’s a workshop, a webinar or an online course - here are a few things that can make a big difference:

  • Mention accessibility right at the start. And don’t just say “if you have needs, let us know” - give examples. People don’t always know what’s possible unless you spell it out.

  • Don’t police how people show up. Some people fidget. Some look away when they’re focusing. Some need to move or doodle to stay present. Let that be okay.

  • Be clear about expectations. If “engagement” is required, say what that actually means. And make sure it’s flexible enough for different communication and processing styles.

  • Offer choices. Mute on or off. Camera on or off. Typed answers or spoken ones. These small things can make people feel safe enough to take part.

  • Train the trainers. It’s not enough to say you’re inclusive - you need to understand neurodivergence and what that means in real situations.

Closing thought

If you’re designing something for everyone, it has to work for everyone. Inclusion can’t just be a line in the small print. It has to be part of how we plan, run, and reflect.

Let’s keep pushing for spaces that welcome difference - not just tolerate it.

Speak soon,
Jess

PS Whenever you’re ready, here are some ways I can help:

PPS Here's what someone said about sessions I’ve been running with a long-term client

 "Many thanks for another great session. I really appreciate the chance to learn more about neurodiversity and find Jess really relatable and knowledgeable.”