Research-informed insights from Kate Coldrick on autism, inclusive education, and mental health in schools – bridging evidence, practice, and lived experience.

Inclusion is something every school says it values, but what does it look like in practice for autistic students? A new review of 233 studies (Perrelet et al., 2025) pulls together two decades of international research, and it makes for interesting (and at times uncomfortable) reading.

Most of the interventions studied focused on teaching autistic children new skills: social interaction, communication, emotional regulation. There’s nothing wrong with those goals in themselves, but what stood out to me is what’s missing. Very few studies looked at how schools might adapt their environment to reduce sensory overload, improve classroom culture, or shift staff attitudes.

What the research gets right — and what it misses

The review shows how much energy has gone into programmes like social skills groups and cognitive-behavioural interventions. These can sometimes help children feel more confident, but the evidence base is fragmented. Researchers used 145 different outcome measures, with hardly any overlap.

And crucially, many studies didn’t ask the most important questions:

• How do autistic pupils themselves experience inclusion?
• What impact does the school environment (noise, light, unpredictability) have on participation?
• How do we measure success beyond “reduced autistic traits”?

As the authors point out, these gaps mean the research often describes integration, not inclusion. The United Nations definition is clear: schools must adapt to learners, not the other way round. That’s a much higher bar.

Why mental health can’t be an afterthought

When we put the review alongside mental health data, the picture becomes even more concerning.

• 71% of autistic children and young people experience poor mental health.
• They are 28 times more likely to consider or attempt suicide than non-autistic peers.

Yet mental health outcomes barely feature in the inclusion research. That’s a striking omission.

If an ‘inclusive’ approach leaves a pupil anxious, burnt out, or isolated, can we really call it inclusive?

Where I think schools can act now

From both the research and my own teaching experience, there are some clear priorities:

1. Measure what matters. Don’t just track “behaviour” – look at participation, belonging, pupil voice, and family perspectives.
2. Put mental health at the centre. Small things make a big difference: access to a quiet space, a trusted adult, predictable routines, sensory adjustments.
3. Use universal design thinking. When teachers build flexible, accessible classrooms (including visual timetables, reduced sensory clutter, and multiple ways to show learning) everyone benefits.
4. Value lived experience. Parents and autistic pupils are experts in what works for them. Co-developing strategies is more effective and sustainable.

The questions we still need to ask

Reading this review, I kept coming back to some uncomfortable but necessary questions:

• If most studies still measure success by how “less autistic” a child seems, are we really capturing inclusion?
• Why is parental expertise still so under-represented, when families are the ones bridging the gaps every day?
• Are schools being judged by how well autistic pupils conform, rather than by how safe and respected those pupils feel?

Towards authentic inclusion

True inclusion is not about making autistic pupils fit better. It’s about reshaping schools so that participation, belonging, and wellbeing are possible for all children. That means adapting classrooms, valuing difference, and recognising that equity isn’t about treating every child the same – it’s about giving every child the support they need to thrive.

As teachers and parents, we can’t always wait for research to catch up. But by listening to autistic voices, focusing on wellbeing, and embedding universal design into daily practice, we can start to close the gap between the rhetoric of inclusion and the reality our children experience.

Thanks for reading,

Kate Coldrick – literacy tutor, educator, and resource creator

Learn more about my work on the About page, or browse my resources for teaching neurodivergent students in Kate Coldrick’s TES shop.

Written by Kate Coldrick, an educator and writer based in Woodbury near Exeter.