The Genius in Our Classrooms

In our school, our classrooms are a symphony of different minds. One student can break down a complex scientific theory and explain it in a way that makes perfect sense. Another sees a blank page and fills it with worlds I could only dream of. Another is an empathetic soul who understands the emotional undercurrents of the room better than anyone. They learn differently, they think differently, and they experience the world in countless, beautiful ways.

So when I heard a world leader not only suggest we “cure” autism and neurodiversity, but also link it to something as common as paracetamol use during pregnancy, a wave of sadness washed over me. It was a moment of deep misunderstanding, a public statement that failed to see the incredible value in every single person. It hurt my heart for the families who heard that, for the mothers who might wonder if they did something wrong, and for every neurodivergent person who was told, in that moment, that they are broken.

This perspective, that we should “cure” what is different, misses the whole point of our shared humanity. Our world’s greatest leaps forward have rarely come from people who think just like everyone else. They come from the artists, the inventors, the leaders who see the world from a completely unique angle. The very people this leader would seek to “cure” are the ones who show us a better way.

Think about the minds that have shaped our world. It is widely believed that figures like Albert Einstein, the physicist who fundamentally changed our understanding of the universe, and Nikola Tesla, the brilliant inventor who pioneered the modern electrical grid, had traits we now associate with neurodiversity. Imagine a world where their unique ways of thinking had been “cured” out of them. We might still be living in the dark.

And what about the arts? The reclusive poet Emily Dickinson, who saw the world with an intense, singular focus, wrote verse that continues to move generations. The visionary painter Vincent van Gogh, whose work exploded with an emotional intensity born from a mind that saw the world in vibrant, unique colours, created masterpieces that define art to this day. A “cure” would have silenced them, leaving our world poorer and less vibrant.

Beyond historical figures, consider modern innovators like Temple Grandin, a leading animal scientist and autism advocate who has revolutionised how we think about livestock handling. Her neurodiverse mind allows her to understand animal behaviour in a way most people cannot. The technology world is built by neurodiverse minds; many pioneers of Silicon Valley have openly discussed their unique cognitive styles. People with ADHD, for example, often possess an incredible ability for *hyperfocus and creative problem-solving when they are passionate about a project. Individuals with dyslexia frequently excel at spatial reasoning and big-picture thinking, skills that are invaluable in engineering and design. The next great architect or urban planner might be a child whose mind is wired to think in three dimensions in a way most people cannot.

I’ve seen this genius firsthand. I know a sweet autistic boy who writes the most incredible, artistic, text-based works on his pages – worlds of his own creation filled with unique logic and language. I’ve watched a beautiful autistic girl light up with a joy I can only describe as pure bliss when she loses herself in art and music. And I’ve been privileged to know a brilliant autistic conversationalist girl whose day is made with simple, personal interactions and care, teaching me every day what it means to be truly present with another person. They are not broken; they are beautifully, wonderfully themselves.

Our job as educators, and as a society, isn’t to force every child into the same perfect, quiet box. It’s to see the genius in each of them and to build a bridge to it. We must create spaces where every mind can thrive, where a child who can’t sit still is given room to move, where the student who struggles with eye contact is handed the tools to express themselves in a way that feels true to them.

The next great leader, artist, or scientist might be the kid in my school who communicates in a way that is all their own. They are not a problem to be solved; they are the solution to a world that desperately needs new ideas and different ways of thinking.

Our greatest hope for the future doesn’t lie in sameness. It lies in the beautiful, brilliant diversity of the human mind. Let’s celebrate it and create a world where it can truly shine.