Featured Student Voice: Sonia Puri

Sonia Puri is a California high school student. One of her biggest passions is increasing accessibility for marginalized communities. She believes that student initiatives are the best way to begin. By gathering your friends and sitting down to do some hard research, you can bring real change to the world. This effort, however, must come from your dedication to make your community a better place, and Sonia believes that all student leaders have that characteristic in common. In her free time, she likes to listen to podcasts, bake for her friends, and listen to music.

When working with neurodivergent students, multiple experts have discussed the importance of ensuring that you don’t treat these students differently. Students and teachers have a tendency to be on either extreme—either being too nice or completely neglecting neurodivergent students. However, the right treatment relies in the middle—providing proper educational support to these individuals while holding natural conversations that sound neither forced nor fake. While the natural part may come easy, the educational support is where it tends to get difficult, as providing proper support that still ensures educational autonomy for these students requires multiple components to be taken into consideration. For example, if we take a neurodivergent student, the first step to receiving any educational support is to acknowledge their neurodivergence, which can be a difficult hurdle for many. Cultural barriers exist, in which neurodivergence presents itself as a stigmatic topic that many families prefer to avoid. Sometimes, parents believe that the issue will “sort itself”, preventing it from reaching to the point where the student can receive any kind of accommodations.

Supposing that a student receives support from their family, the next step is to receive a formal diagnosis via a clinic. According to Josi Health, the average wait time from referral to diagnosis is around 7 months, around 66% of an individual school year, and in turn forming a long period of time without proper accommodations for neurodivergent students (Josi Health). Further than this, it costs between $1,000 to $5,000—without insurance—to receive a diagnosis in the first place (PsyD), further complicating the process and making it less likely for individuals to truly want to pursue a diagnosis. Assuming that an individual has gone through the seven month wait time and has paid to receive the diagnosis, receiving specific accommodations may take time, often requiring a system of trial and error that steals more time away from precious school time. The question, therefore, lies in how teachers can directly support students—as much as they can under their jurisdiction—with the tools that they have.

Under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act, funding covers around 10% to 13% of the costs associated with providing special education to neurodivergent students, which results in estimates to be around $1,800 per student (Dragoo). The other 87% to 90% comes from funding at the local district level, which is already limited due to funding needed for other purposes. In addition to this, teachers are often inadequately trained to best support neurodivergent students in their classroom. When discussing neurodivergent education with an expert under Brightmont Academy (name kept anonymous for privacy reasons), this expert mentioned how teachers may label a lack of motivation or focus as characteristic of the student. In reality, the student may be experiencing symptoms that are the result of an invisible learning disability. When it comes to categorizing students as neurodivergent, it is up to the teacher to use their observations to label students, especially when many of the students lack a formal diagnosis. Beyond this, however, teachers require a specific structure that can best support the different learning struggles that neurodivergent students struggle with, including hyperactivity, ADHD, a lack of motivation, sensory overload, and any communication barriers that may arise.

One way that students can support neurodivergent students is through the structured teaching via the TEACCH method, which stands for the Treatment and Education of Autistic and Related Communication-Handicapped Children (Berek). This method relies heavily on visuals to help individuals that are presently on the autism-spectrum disorder, but it can also be applied to other students who have their own learning disabilities. Visual teaching styles often provide students a clearer way to absorb information, with tools including visual timers, slider boards, colorful schedules, color-coded choice boards, and more. By implementing a visually-structured lesson plan, instructors are a strength-based model to convey concepts that may appear daunting in other forms. Neurodivergent students often excel at comprehending and interpreting visuals, and the use of a visually-structured teaching empowers neurodivergent students to experience more autonomy as learners.

I began to notice these disconnects during my time as a volunteer at a local nonprofit focused on supporting neurodivergent students and families by providing enrichment programs focused on cognitive and tactile activities. In some classes, I began to observe talented students fail to engage with the content that they were presented with. Some students would merely run off, fail to verbally participate, or would zone out during classes. These behaviors showed me the disconnect between students and accessibility to the content of a lesson. While I began by providing one-on-one tutoring to many of these students as a way to supplement their enrichment programs at the nonprofit, I soon learned that there was no one approach that I could apply to all students. Each student needed their own version of a visually-structured lesson that organized the information based on their studying habits. While I was able to tailor the curriculum and sessions per individual student, my work still did not account for the many other students at the nonprofit.

A deep desire to help all students experience more independence as learners, I got to work researching visual tools that helped many neurodivergent learners, utilizing statistics and success rates. My research would ultimately culminate in the creation of a visual toolkit I would call the Adaptive Resource Lab, which would hold multiple visual tools including water timers, laminate cards, a visual slider board that I created, squishes, an adjustable schedule board, and more. You can learn more about this lab, find documentation, and seek guidance on how to implement one at an educational center near you here. Implemented over thirty of the nonprofit’s enrichment programs, I would train the staff and volunteers on how to integrate different tools into different scenarios based on my research. I would also implement a 20-page user manual that went into detail to provide other volunteers instructions on how to best support their neurodivergent students during classes with these tools, instead of simply using these tools when the students are disinterested or unfocused.

By implementing this system across the nonprofit’s large client base, I was able to contribute to enriching over 1,000 hours of student-learning. Visible efforts were seen in increased verbal participation and engagement seen from the students during the nonprofit’s many enrichment programs. Furthermore, this project offered a streamlined approach to helping the nonprofit’s teachers by fully informing and training them without any additional costs. More importantly, this initiative utilized a strength-based model that empowered neurodivergent students to better comprehend the information presented to them in a form that they excelled at utilizing. By implementing these strength-based teaching styles throughout the educational system, we can equip students to learn in supportive and well-suited environments that allow them to truly grow as autonomous learners.

Berek, Daniel L. “Treatment and Education of Autistic and Related Communication Handicapped Children (TEACCH).” Research Starters, EBSCO, 2021, www.ebsco.com/research-starters/communication-and-mass-media/treatment-and-education-autistic-and-related/. Accessed 7 Oct. 2026.

Dragoo, Kyrie. “The Individuals With Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) Funding: A Primer.” Congress.Gov, 29 Aug. 2019, www.congress.gov/crs-product/R44624. Accessed 7 Oct. 2026.

Josi Health, Solon at. “How Long Does an Autism Evaluation Take? Timelines, Waitlists, and What to Expect.” Josi Health, 22 Mar. 2026, josihealth.com/how-long-does-autism-evaluation-take/. Accessed 7 Oct. 2026.

PsyD, George Sachs. “How Much Does Adhd Testing Cost? A Clear Guide to Pricing and Options.” Sachs Center | Autism & ADHD Testing and Treatment | Your Home for Autism & ADHD Testing and Treatment, Sachs Center | Autism & ADHD Testing and Treatment, 15 Dec. 2025, sachscenter.com/how-much-does-adhd-testing-cost/. Accessed 7 Oct. 2026.

Featured Student Voice: Lisa Cho

Lisa Cho is a rising junior from San Diego that enjoys writing everything from research to storytelling. Through sharing her vulnerable experiences, she hopes to make one more person feel seen, heard, and less alone while encouraging readers to view familiar issues from a new perspective.

I have heard this question countless times, and no two people ask it the same way. Some put weight on why, wondering what disability or illness makes me “deserve” accommodations. Others lean on the word you, questioning how someone with such achievements could need accommodations at all. To them, accommodations mean one of two things: either I am incapable, or I am receiving an unfair advantage.

Accommodations are legally protected supports that remove barriers and provide students with disabilities equal access to education. They are not one-size-fits-all, because every disability creates different barriers. Researchers Allyson Harrison and Irene Armstrong argue that extra time on tests has become a routine accommodation in many postsecondary institutions. It may be the most recognizable accommodation, but not all accommodations are about time. Modified participation requirements let a student with social anxiety pursue courses that match their interests and abilities, rather than whether they can demonstrate learning in one specific way. With preferential seating, autistic students can focus on learning instead of becoming overwhelmed by sights, sounds, or classroom activity.

Because of narcolepsy, I face a choice when an assignment is due at midnight: rush through it and sacrifice my learning, or stay up and lose the sleep I need to focus on the next day. Extended deadlines let me try my best without chasing the clock. Walking between classes, drowsiness can turn dangerous in an instant. Flexible breaks allow me to go to the health office and return to class safely, ready to learn. But more than anything, accommodations make me feel understood. My behaviors stopped being read as choices and started being recognized as symptoms. I want my teachers to know how much I value the time, energy, and passion they pour into teaching.

In the article Accommodation Nation, Rose Horowitch writes that wealthy families have turned accommodations into another admissions advantage and put the entire idea of fairness at risk. But abuse of the system doesn’t erase why it exists. People commit tax fraud, yet we don’t eliminate taxes because of it. More often, the greater problem is stigma. When the entire system gets judged by the actions of a few, those who genuinely rely on them pay the price.

During AP Physics, my classmates were discussing how they could help each other on a test while others criticized them for cheating. Their words weren’t directed at me, but they didn’t have to be. Every “You’re too smart” and “You’re so lucky” from my peers echoed in my head. I began to wonder if I belonged in the same category as the classmates swapping answers. My thoughts spiraled. Without my accommodations, would I still earn the grade I got? If not, did that mean I didn’t belong here?

The calculator on the Calculus exam doesn’t give the answer. It removes the barrier of tedious arithmetic so the exam measures what it intends to measure: your understanding of calculus. Accommodations work the same way. Using them didn’t make me a cheater.

Then I asked myself a different question. Why had I taken Physics in the first place? I wanted to be there for the lectures that sparked my curiosity, to push myself academically, the chance to learn from and alongside my classmates, and the group projects that brought us together. Having accommodations didn’t make me any less deserving of those experiences. My disability was invisible—that didn’t make it any less real.

My best friend told me her parents didn’t want her to receive accommodations for Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) since they only exist in the classroom. They believed that support would leave their daughter dependent, less capable, and unprepared for the real world. This misconception is common. A national study of U.S. medical students found that nearly one in five students who reported needing accommodations never requested them, despite acknowledging they needed assistance. By contrast, only 2% of requests were denied.

Yet the real world isn’t free of accommodations. It’s built on accessibility. We walk through automatic doors, listen to audiobooks, and turn on closed captions without a second thought. When accessibility can’t meet every need, accommodations ensure people can still participate fully. Neither is a shortcut; they’re simply different ways of creating access.

In seventh grade, I boarded a plane listening to the alphabet song on repeat and downloading Duolingo. By the time I landed at LAX, I knew the letters A through G and how to say “Hi, my name is Lisa.” The language barrier began to fade through teachers who spoke clearly and slowly and chose simple words. I mispronounced words. I put sentences together backward. My classmates, who would later become my closest friends, met every mistake with patience instead of laughter. Slowly, I found my voice. Whether the barrier is language or disability, support doesn’t make the path easier—it makes the path possible.

Because of those accommodations, I have been able to pursue my education and keep working toward my dreams. My disability is part of me, but it doesn’t define my intelligence, effort, or potential. If anything, it gave me something I might never have gained otherwise: empathy for struggles that can’t always be seen. A disability doesn’t make someone any less able; it simply casts a shadow over what they’re capable of. And support lets that ability shine.

So the next time someone asks, “Why do you have accommodations?” I hope they pause before assuming the answer is weakness or unfairness. Every student deserves to learn in an environment where support is met with understanding instead of suspicion. Maybe the better question was never why a student receives support, but what barrier that support is helping remove.

Featured Student Voice: Hana Terpstra

Hana Terpstra is a current senior in high school with a focus in art and design and a love for storytelling. She believes community and learning how to learn are vital, and hopes that all future students get to learn these values.

Making sure all kids get to learn important topics like these, as well as skills like connection and a desire to learn, is a message I’d love to help spread. My main interest is in the arts; Almost all of them, from sewing to writing to painting to drawing. Recently, I have been looking into art applications for colleges and art-based scholarships, and I came to realization that I don’t really know which art I want to focus in. The whole college search is a very anxiety-causing process, but this specific fear, that I have to make decisions about my future when I don’t even know what I want to do yet, was the most looming of all.

Then I thought about one of the most defining books for me- Scott Mccloud’s “Understanding Comics”. In it, he describes the art of making comics like an apple- (though perhaps an onion is more accurate) with different layers. From the outside in, it goes surface, craft, structure, idiom, form, idea/purpose. The metaphor works for the entirety of art as well; Starting out, most people’s art is “surface level”, then as their craft develops they begin to play with structure, genre, what form the art takes, and the central idea of the whole thing. I am fascinated with that last one; the question of “Why am I doing this?” Though my art is just “surface”, the concept of a reason is appealing.

Taking this idea in mind, and my anxiety over looming portfolio requirements, I created an experiment. I would try and find my “reason” the best way I knew how – through research – and then use that new information in my art. A piece of visual art advice I always get is “draw from real life, not from others art – at least to start.” This is given because learning how to see the world and communicate it through your own lens is critical in defining your style – but perhaps, it also could be critical in find an interest, a reason.

So I took to the internet and began to research, putting what I found into a slideshow presentation. Then, I came to another realization. The skills I had learned in school, from reading material to advice from my art teachers, even from science projects and English reports – they were vital for this project. I used my friend, a fellow art student, to keep me on track to my goal. Even the purpose of my search- curiosity, questioning- was something taught in school! I was using these skills to my benefit in my craft, something I hadn’t noticed before. I am very lucky. If I didn’t have the opportunities I had in middle and high school, my visual library, skills, and connections would be much worse. I wouldn’t have had the interest in learning, in reading books, in finding advice, in keeping motivation to stick through a big project like this – if I didn’t have the desire to learn.

And that is something education instilled in me. Heck, even now, writing this, I am using foreshadowing and formatting in an essay-like structure. It’s not just about the topics in school – though those are certainly helpful as well – but the skills. And just now, going into my last year of high school, I’m starting to understand what my teachers have been saying all along – the skills you build here will help carry you through life later. Carrying this knowledge with me makes me feel a little more prepared for life. Even if I don’t know where I’m going, I know I have the skills to get there.