The power of asking: What one conversation taught us about inclusion
When we asked Aiden, aged 15, what inclusion feels like to him, his answers challenged assumptions about autism, communication and belonging. Together with reflections from his Speech and Language Therapist, they remind us how taking the time to ask - and really listen - can help create more inclusive environments.
The reflections that follow are drawn from conversations with Aiden, aged 15, and his Speech and Language Therapist (SaLT). Wherever possible, Aiden's words have been shared exactly as he expressed them, with his permission, so that his voice remains at the heart of what follows.
More than a label
Before we can create inclusive environments, we need to understand what inclusion feels like to the young people experiencing them. Adults often answer that question through policies, strategies and support plans. This time, we wanted to hear from someone living that experience every day. One of the first things Aiden challenges is the language we use around autism itself.
"Autism isn't really a title. Some people call it a spectrum, but what autism is, is more individuality which gives more unique capabilities and incapabilities. By giving autism a title, you're missing the point by putting everyone in that title. It doesn't make sense because everyone is different.
His SaLT describes him as "a wonderful deep thinker who notices the details and makes great connections between different ideas." She says he approaches conversations with "kindness and compassion" and has a genuine ambition to help others.
If we want to understand someone, we have to begin by getting to know them as an individual. As she puts it, at the heart of every new relationship "there is always a unique and brilliant person to connect with."
Belonging begins with understanding
When asked what helps him feel comfortable enough to do his best, Aiden's answer isn't about adjustments or interventions.
"That people are able to accept people for who they are and not what they have."
His therapist says that's exactly what genuine inclusion should feel like. More than simply being present, it's about creating an environment where a young person feels they belong, where they feel "safe, seen, heard, understood and valued."
Perhaps the real measure of inclusion isn't whether adults believe they've created it, but whether the young person feels it. For Aiden, that feeling is shaped every day by something we can all too easily take for granted: communication.
Every conversation matters
When asked what separates a good day from a difficult one, Aiden comes back to communication.
"A good day is good communication, a good mindset and really good luck."
When communication breaks down, everything becomes harder.
"A hard day is when I get misinformation, experience miscommunication and generally have an unpredictable day in a bad way, not in like a good surprise."
His therapist has seen the same thing. Communication isn't simply about exchanging information; it's what creates trust, belonging and psychological safety. As she puts it, "Robust communication is the shared language of inclusion."
Feeling understood doesn't happen by accident. It grows through conversations where questions come from authentic curiosity, where people listen carefully and take the time to see the world from another person's perspective.
What happens when we really listen
Throughout their time together, Aiden found creative ways to explain how he experiences the world. Trying to describe how he makes connections, he compared it to completing a jigsaw.
"You'd probably start with the edges... Me, I see the whole picture first and then I see the detail in each individual piece and that's how I find the connections, through the detail."
When explaining why too many choices can feel overwhelming, he offered another analogy of a sweet shop.
"I think I know what I want and then I see all the choices and feel overwhelmed and probably leave the shop without any sweets."
Those conversations helped bridge the gap between two different ways of experiencing the world.
Like many reflective practitioners, his SaLT believes there is always something to learn from the children and young people we work alongside. She explains that those conversations deepened their understanding of each other's perspectives. For Aiden, it was important to understand the 'why' behind an intervention; for his therapist, it meant listening to his perspective to help make that connection.
Processing time, the amount of information shared and even the pace of a conversation all play a part, but good outcomes grow from mutual understanding and respect for the different perspectives each person brings.
Challenging assumptions
Listening also means challenging our assumptions. For Aiden, some of the most common misconceptions about autism simply don't reflect his experience.
"Assuming people with autism are slow, struggle to communicate and have certain foods they'll only eat - but that's just an assumption. I try snails, mussels and shellfish!"
His therapist believes assumptions can also shape how adults interpret behaviour. Rather than assuming something is wrong, she encourages us to approach behaviour with authentic curiosity about what a young person might be trying to communicate. Her guiding principle is simple: "Connect before collaborate." Understanding begins when we replace assumptions with questions rooted in authentic curiosity.
Connection before collaboration
When asked what advice he would give to an adult supporting an autistic young person for the first time, Aiden doesn't talk about strategies or interventions. He talks about relationships.
"They should try different ways of communication like maybe sign, drawing and talking. Looking at the bigger picture is important. Also making connections, it's not about supporting, it's about bonding with the young person."
Perhaps that's something all of us who work with children can reflect on.
Every child brings their own experiences, perspectives and way of seeing the world. The more willing we are to listen, the more we learn - not just about autism, but about how to create environments where every child feels they belong.
We began with a simple question: what does inclusion feel like?
Aiden's answer wasn't about labels, strategies or support plans. It was about being accepted, understood and given the opportunity to connect. Perhaps that's where inclusion begins, not with having all the answers, but with taking the time to listen.
As Aiden puts it:
"I'd probably explain it's not a title, it's about being different and individuality's important."
A note from the team at LINGO
We’d like to say a huge thank you to Aiden and his speech therapist for taking the time to share their thoughts and experiences with us, and for allowing us to share them further. Sharing your own thoughts, feelings and experiences so openly is an incredibly generous thing to do, and we’re very grateful to Aiden and his therapist for trusting us to be part of that conversation.
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