Presence Isn’t Inclusion, Especially for Students

By Brian Roach, Head of Solutions Engineering

There is a certain kind of student I think about often. The one who tries hard, shows up, wants to do well, and still ends up feeling like they’re always a step behind. Not because they’re not capable, but because the way they learn doesn’t match the way school is set up.  

My daughter showed me that reality long before I understood what it meant. She was smart, thoughtful, and strong in the areas that played to her gifts. But some parts of school seemed designed to work against her. One of the hardest patterns involved missing assignments. They didn’t pile up in the dramatic way you’d see in a movie. They were scattered, easy to miss, but each one still carried weight. We rarely knew anything was missing until the grade appeared. And by then, the window to help had already closed. 

When Effort Gets Mistaken for Understanding 

When we asked what happened, the answer was usually simple: she didn’t know where to start. Not forgetting, not lack of effort. She just couldn’t find the first step. And because communication was a challenge for her in moments like that, she didn’t know how to ask for help. So she avoided it. Masked it. Acted like everything was fine because that felt safer than admitting she was stuck. 

As a parent, that brings a mix of frustration and helplessness. You want to step in, but the problem stays hidden until it’s too late. Sadness and worry come next. Sometimes anger, especially when the communication between home and school leaves you feeling like you’re driving blind. 

The Quiet Struggles That Don’t Show Up Until It’s Too Late 

Reading brought its own kind of challenge. She could read every word of a passage and still walk away without understanding any of it. Not because she wasn’t trying, and not because she wasn’t bright. The information was presented in a way that didn’t match how her brain processed language. Too dense. Too layered. Too much all at once. She could read something over and over and still not reach the point inside it. “Just read it again” was never the answer, but it was usually the only instruction she received.  

And she isn’t the only student living this experience. Far from it. 

This Experience Isn’t Rare. It’s Widespread 

Students with ADHD run into the same starting-line paralysis. They want to begin, but their brain can’t organize the steps. Students with Dyslexia encounter text that becomes a barrier before the learning even begins. Students with dysgraphia know what they want to say but can’t get the words onto the page in a way that reflects what they know. Students with Autism face overlapping challenges with communication and processing, on top of the effort of trying to look “fine” even when they’re overwhelmed. 

This Isn’t a Student Problem. It’s a System Fit Problem 

None of these kids are broken. The system wasn’t built with them in mind. 

What looks like “falling behind” is often something far more simple and far more human. A student who doesn’t know how to begin. A student who understands the idea but can’t express it out loud. A student who reads every word but needs support to make sense of them. A student who wants to learn and is working harder than anyone realizes but keeps running into barriers they can’t control. 

These aren’t failures of effort. They are failures of support.  

The Gap Between Potential and Support  

This is why HiNAIA matters to me. Not because it claims to fix everything, but because it gives students a way into their own learning. It offers structure when the steps don’t make sense. It helps break information down into something understandable. It lowers the barrier to asking for help. It gives students tools that match how they think, instead of forcing them to bend themselves into shapes that don’t fit. 

To the Students Working Twice as Hard: You Are Not the Problem  

This post is for the students who work twice as hard and often in silence. The ones who mask their struggles. The ones who look fine on paper but are overwhelmed inside. The ones whose strengths are real, even when the system only sees the challenges. 

To those students: you are not the problem. 

You learn differently, and that is something we can support.  

Your challenges do not define you. 

Your strengths do. 

Our job is to build a world that meets you where you are. 
Not a world that demands you fight your way toward it. 

In Part 3, we’ll explore the other side of this story: what happens when parents are asked to support a system they can’t see into, and how clarity changes everything.