The New Inclusion Crisis in Education: Why Opportunity, Not Presence, Defines Equity
By Brian Roach, Head of Solutions Engineering
“Inclusion is not based on presence; it's based on equitable opportunity.” – Brian E. Roach
In speaking to one of my colleagues at HiNAIA I used that line. It resonated with me because I spent years watching what happens when presence gets mistaken for inclusion. A child can be in the room, in the routine, in the picture and still be completely invisible in ways no gradebook will ever show. My daughter experienced that kind of quiet exclusion more often than anyone realized.
She was bright, capable, and strong in the areas that played to her gifts - writing, language, memorization. But when school shifted into subjects where memorization wasn’t enough, or where the concepts were layered and abstract, the struggle was real. Not loud, not dramatic - just constant. And because she still performed well overall, the system didn’t see the strain underneath. On paper, she looked like she was doing fine. In reality, she was working twice as hard to keep pace.
When “Inclusion” Breaks Down in Practice
As a parent, that leaves you stuck in this strange place. You know your child is smart. You know they can learn. But you also know exactly where the panic starts to build. By the time she reached high school and we were choosing her classes, we didn’t know how to help her in subjects like math or science and honestly, neither did the teachers. So we started steering her away from them, only including the minimum requirements. Not because she wasn’t capable of growth, but because the lack of support made those subjects feel like roadblocks instead of opportunities.
And sometimes I wonder what we accidentally took from her by trying to protect her. When a system isn’t built to support a student, parents start making decisions based on fear instead of possibility. Instead of “What could she learn?” the question becomes “What can we avoid so she doesn’t drown?” That’s not how it should be. But that’s how it was.
The system wasn’t built for students who think differently, it was built for the average student who never actually existed. And when supports fail to match the way a student learns, inclusion becomes accidental instead of intentional.
Invisibility Beyond Academics
Socially, things weren’t easier. She showed up, she participated, she did the work but she never quite connected. One moment has stayed with me: after the final performance of a school play, the director invited the cast out for a group photo. All the kids rushed under the lights, celebrating. Except mine. She wasn’t there. No one looked for her. She was part of the work but outside the moment, and sitting in the audience watching that, it hit me with a hard punch to the gut, a pain that I can still feel and can bring tears to my eyes. Imagine it, standing in the audience, watching the joy of a group of students, knowing your child should be a part of that joy, and realizing that no-one even thought of her. It's just one moment out of many. But one that reminds me as I look back on it, that “being included” on paper doesn’t always look like inclusion in real life.
Why This Matters Now More Than Ever
Real equity requires:
insight into what a student is actually struggling with, not just the grades they earn
tools designed to support how their brain processes information
shared understanding between teachers, parents, and support teams
visibility that prevents quiet struggle from being mistaken for success
And that’s why I believe so strongly in what we’re building at HiNAIA. The mission is critical and it matters to me at a visceral level. It has since the very first conversation I had with our founder about what we wanted to accomplish. Because I’ve lived long enough to understand how easily bright, capable students can be misunderstood. HiNAIA matters because it gives students support that matches their brains, and it gives parents and educators a window into what’s actually happening beneath the surface.
This isn’t just for kids. It’s for the entire circle around them: parents, teachers, case workers, everyone trying to support a student who learns differently. When all of them have better insight, better tools, and a shared understanding of what a student needs, the student isn’t left to navigate everything alone.
When everyone is working from the same understanding, everything changes for the better.
Opportunity finally begins to match presence.
And inclusion becomes something real - not something assumed.
In Part 2, we dig into why presence alone fails students who learn differently, and how real support opens the door to opportunity.